


Broken

by Technoplague



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Broken, Finalizer (Star Wars), First Order, Gen, Hux is Not Nice, I Don't Even Know, I Need to Speak to Your Manager, I'm Bad At Tagging, Interrogation, Intrigue, Mandalorian, No Smut, Someone Doesn't Know How Feelings Work, The Force, prisoner
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-21
Updated: 2018-04-21
Packaged: 2019-04-26 00:14:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14390067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Technoplague/pseuds/Technoplague
Summary: Jobs go wrong sometimes, but this one goes spectacularly wrong & leaves a young woman in the cold hands of the First Order's youngest General; Armitage Hux.Alternatively; General Hux gets his first look at a Mandalorian and is left wanting.





	Broken

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first try at writing something in the sequel trilogy era. I appreciate everyone reading it. Publishing any of my work is still a new concept for me, I'm usually very secretive with it. I hope you enjoy it.
> 
> I apologize for any grammatical/tense errors, I have no beta and I'm sure there are things I missed.
> 
> The idea for this story came from a writing group where my prompt word was "broken". I hope I was able to convey my prompt word well.

Rain, she had decided, was awful no matter what planet she was on. On some planets it fell in slow, fat drops that rolled lazily down windows and off the sides of transports. On others it came down softly & blanketed the area for miles in every direction, turning the world to muck and making travel near impossible. One thing every rain had in common though was that it made tracking hard, which therefore made her job hard.

It was rain that had botched the job she’d been on, it was rain that had gotten her caught, and it was rain now that she actually missed the sound of. The soft patter as it hit a roof, the dull thud of heavy drops landing on her helmet, the wind pushing the torrent of water every which way, the way it distorted the sound of her ship’s engines.

She lets out a soft sigh at the memories and readjusts her position on the hard cot, if one could even deign to call the duracrete slab she was sitting on a cot. Her tailbone had felt numb for several hours now, unused to sitting without the padding of her usual suit and armor. Did people sleep on these things normally? She had slept on the ground before but this seemed far worse in comparison. These conditions were inhumane and someone really needed to speak to upper management about it.

She clears her throat in an attempt to harden it before yelling loudly into the emptiness of her chamber, “Excuse me! Hello?!”

It’s quiet for several minutes before she tries again, a little louder this time; “There’s someone in here you know, you can’t ignore me to death!”

This time her cry is met with the sound of a heavy slam against the door, presumably someone slamming their fist or weapon against the door in an effort to tell her to ‘shut it’ without actually having to talk to her. It’s a small victory for her so she tries again.

“I’d like to speak with whoever is in charge here! You guys are being really unreasonable!”

This time the door slides open and she’s met with the faceless white visage of a Stormtrooper. His voice is modulated as he spits out, “Stop your yelling. Someone is on their way to fetch you, screaming about it isn’t going to make it any faster.” There’s a small grainy chuckle after his words. “Not that you’ll be in a hurry when they do finally come to get you.”

With those last semi-cryptic words the Stormtrooper turns his back to her and exits her chamber, the door shutting behind him with a soft mechanical hiss. She had a feeling she’d be seeing, and hearing, that a lot over the next few hours. She’s left staring at the door for several seconds before she huffs and leans her back into the wall behind her, wiggling her butt to regain some semblance of feeling in it again. No luck, still numb. Whoever was coming to fetch her was certainly getting an earful and she didn’t even care if they were her last words.

What seems like several hours pass before the door hisses open again. She startles at the noise this time, having fallen into a semi-asleep state during the wait. Her eyes catch on the white boots of Stormtroopers and she suppresses a groan. This wasn’t surprising. Just as she’s getting up the energy to stand up the Stormtroopers step to the side, revealing a man behind them.

_Ahhhh, that would be the upper management_

She straightens her back and looks up, staring into the face of a tall thin man with a shock of red hair. Well that certainly narrowed down where she was. Only one person in the higher tier of the First Order had hair like that.

She gives the man her best smile, all teeth and lips stretched wide. “General Hux! If I had known this was your ship your lackeys were keeping me on I would have asked for you by name!” She stands up abruptly, doing her best to hide the sharp pain that stems from her tailbone at the movement. The Stormtroopers to either side of the General pull their blasters & aim in a single motion. She shoots her hands up by her head immediately, wiggling her fingers. “Hey hey, put those down. I’m unarmed.”

Hux puts an arm out, pushing down the blaster of the trooper to his right. There’s a small smirk tugging his lips that she doesn’t like the look of. He takes a small step forward, putting the troopers at his back, his hands moving behind his back in parade rest. The man always stood like he had a stick up his ass.

“Mandalorian.” He chuckles, a noise that doesn’t sound genuine coming from him. It seems practiced, like something he did in front of a mirror because he knew the sound would be expected of him at some point in his life. It sends a small shiver up her spine. How could someone like this be human?

“General," she swallows thickly. Out of the corner of her eye she catches her hand still by her head and she pulls them down, folding them in front of her. “I’m assuming you’re who I need to talk to about such deplorable conditions? That bed is really hard, my ass kind of hurts.” She reaches back and rubs at her tailbone dramatically. Bravado would get her through this, at least emotionally.

Hux shakes his head with that smirk still firmly in place. “Honestly I didn't think you’d know any difference. Your people are so primitive and backwards, this must seem like luxury to you.” There’s a glint in his eyes that she isn’t sure if she likes or not.

“Luxury? Obviously you did not get a first hand look at my ship then. Why don’t you take me to it and I’ll give you a tour personally?” She forces herself to offer what she hopes passes for a seductive smirk of her own. “I really went all out on decorating my personal cabin. I’m sure a man with your station would appreciate it.”

In an instant Hux’s face is scarlet and the cruel smirk is replaced with a sneer. She had her answer now; she definitely did not like that glint in his eyes. “Your ship is filthy and will be dismantled and destroyed, melted down and turned to scrap. Much like your armor.”

She can almost feel the blood drain from her face, turning it white. Not… no. Not her armor. Mandalorian armor was a family heirloom, passed down and reformed for each wearer. She’s across the room before her mind comprehends what is happening. Her hands ball in the lapels of his coat as she slams him into the door. “Don’t you dare touch my armor, _di’kut_! You have no idea what that armor means! You are not fit to lay hands on it!”

His eyes are filled with rage as he watches his accompanying troopers pull her off of him, spitting and screaming in Mando’a. He has to admit, at least to himself, that it’s a beautiful language when it’s coming from her.

When the First Order had picked her up on Bastion he had been surprised and elated. A Mandalorian. He had never been able to see one in person. They were fierce warriors and would not be taken alive. They fought until they either killed everyone and escaped or they died. This one, Ca’tra Beroya, had put up a fight right until Phasma had shown up, according to the troopers she had stood down almost immediately. A warrior recognizing someone they couldn’t win against, Hux had thought. When they’d brought her in, unconscious from a sedation shot to the neck, Hux had insisted on being in the room as they removed her gear. He had caressed every piece of armor as troopers removed them from her body. Smooth, sleek, very hard. Mandalorian iron was rare and guarded very closely. But now he had some. They could experiment, see what the best use for it was. Once they knew that they could get more. They'd raze ever planet to the ground to get it if need be.

The helmet had actually been the last thing removed from the woman. It was truly a work of art, Hux wasn’t sure if that was a piece he could actually destroy. What lay beneath it, however, was more so a work of art. Colorful hair cropped even with a strong chin & jaw _(Surely those colors were not natural, all purples and blues.)_ , a scar bisecting her face just under her eyes and across the bridge of a thin nose _(How had she even survived that?)_ , and lips that seemed almost too large for her round face. The features when looked at separately were not appealing, but somehow when put together made for a charming face. How was this girl a Mandalorian? She seemed so young to be a warrior.

Staring at her now, in the present, as she screams and rages at him, he finds her no less appealing. _It truly is a shame she isn't part of the First Order, then again she wouldn’t be the same woman if she was._

Hux regains his composure as he tugs at his lapels to straighten his uniform. “Stop all that nonsense, I understand precisely what you are screaming at me and it’s neither warranted or appreciated.”

That shut her up. She certainly wasn’t used to outsiders understanding her. She finally stops struggling against the two holding her and levels a glare in Hux’s direction. “You will need to kill me before you destroy my armor, or you will live to regret it. I will kill every person who lays a hand on it.”

At this Hux grins. It’s an ugly thing, full of malice and promises of pain. “I have laid both hands on it, so I suppose you shall just have to start with me. But I don’t think you will get the chance to.” He clears his throat and drops the smile from his face, regaining his business-like demeanor. “Tell me what you were doing on Bastion. Who were you looking for?”

Ca’tra stands as straight as she can while still being held. “I was coming to kidnap you, you ginger haired pasty faced little weasel. You’ve been hunting my Clan mates and I was coming for revenge.” She left out, of course, how her Clan had exiled her for this. They wanted no part of a war against the First Order.

“Honesty. Not something I expected from you.”

She rolls her eyes. “You’re going to kill me, and I have no reason to lie even if you were letting me live. I have honor, unlike you.”

Hux’s hand snaps out and across the face. Her cheek is red almost immediately and he finds a little joy in that. How prettily she bruises. “Don’t presume to know anything about me, Ca’tra Beroya.” He suppresses the small shiver saying her name gives him. Strange.

When she looks back at Hux there’s a slight maniacal grin on her face. Her lip, broken from the slap and her nervous tendency of chewing on it, is dripping blood slowly onto her chin. As Hux watches in sick fascination her tongue swipes out from between her lips and catches the small stream. Blood wells up again almost immediately but she doesn’t go for it this time.

This time he can’t hide the shiver. “You Mandalorians are such a strange lot.” The words are barely above a whisper. He can’t deny he’s fascinated by her, but he’s unsure if it’s because Mandalorians are so different or if he wants her. It’s a new feeling for him and it makes him uneasy.

One trooper clears their throat, yanking Ca’tra’s arm as he stands up straighter. “General Hux, sir. Should we deliver her to Lord Ren for interrogation?”

Hux mentally shakes himself and glances over to the trooper with narrowed eyes. Reconditioning was in order if he thought he could speak up without being addressed. “Yes, go ahead and take her along. Do be careful though, I can’t imagine she will go easily.”

Ca’tra is deathly still for several moments and then explodes into motion. The troopers are prepared and clamp down hard on her arms as they start dragging her from the room. Hux steps smoothly aside as the door opens and watches, hands clasped behind his back, as they drag her down the hallway. She turns her head back to stare at him over her shoulder. “You’re never going to break me, Hux! Do you hear me?! I don’t care what you do you’re not going to break me!”

Usually the presence of Kylo Ren would cause General Hux to sneer, but right now it has the opposite effect. He can’t help the sadistic smile that spreads across his face as he watches the man step into the path of the girl and the troopers. He almost wants to laugh when she faces back around as she’s jolted to a halt. He so wishes he could see her face.

Ca’tra has only ever heard the name Kylo Ren, spoken in whispers and fearful tones. What she’s faced with is nothing she could have ever imagined. She would’ve rather come face to face with a mother Nexu than this horrible figure before her. He’s swathed in head to toe black and his face is… there is no face. There’s a mask with eyes of chrome. A helmet not entirely different from her own except that she had never looked as terrifying. She can hear him breathing softly but the sound is distorted, causing shivers to wrack her body.

The voice, when he speaks, is the stuff of nightmares. “Bring her in here.”

Ca’tra swallows with her dry throat and resumes her struggling as the troopers manhandle her into the room. She would never hear the rain again, the last noise in her head would be that horrible voice.

Hux almost admires her when she yells back through the door to him again, “You can’t break me! Mandalorian iron, General. I am my armor and you will never break me!” He keeps on almost admiring her right up until the screaming starts, and then she’s just as weak as everyone else.

“Everyone breaks in the end, Mandalorian. Everyone breaks in the end.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all for reading one of my first works, I hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> ...now if you'll excuse me I'm gonna go pace around at the thought of people reading something I wrote...


End file.
